


the fool's tomb.

by lithalos



Series: Caravanserai [4]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, Persona 5 Spoilers, look if you've hit november in game you know what this is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-23
Updated: 2017-09-23
Packaged: 2019-01-04 09:50:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12166527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lithalos/pseuds/lithalos
Summary: For once in his life, the great, cocky bastard Kurusu Akira was truly silent.





	the fool's tomb.

**Author's Note:**

> you know what this is? me committing to having a happier ending to sun. so here, have what could have been.
> 
> Please heed my warnings here: this involves what happens November in game. If you haven't gotten that far, or can't be around descriptions of violence and death, this is probably not for you.
> 
> (unbeta'd)

He was a motley of bruises. Purple, blue, and black spotted his skin, red scrapes and wounds connecting the space between them. A morbid paint on an unwilling, helpless canvas. It wasn't beautiful. They weren't stars on his skin or something to kiss the pain away from with a gentle touch and whispers of soft reassurances.

The bruises on his skin, the warped and twisted mauve on his body, was evidence of pain. Of agony enough to leave a mark, if not permanent. They festered beneath the surface, a grotesque and unsightly result of disgusting violence thrust upon someone who wouldn't fight back. Couldn't fight back.

It made Akechi sick.

Akechi hadn't been entirely sure the thief even noticed his presence, though a few empty needles carelessly strewn on the floor confirmed that suspicion and sparked a rotten disgust in his chest. How dazed the thief looked, how small, was unnerving. Akira didn't lift his eyes, grey staying dimly fixed to the steel table. He was distant, unresponsive and entirely devoid of the life Akechi had grown so fond of. No quick quips, no sly smiles or knowing stares. No kind words or cheesy one-liners, no poorly timed pathetic excuses for jokes. His lips were parted, split with cracking dried blood, mouth empty of words and full of red. For once in his life, the great, cocky bastard Kurusu Akira was truly silent.

The way his hands trembled, bloodied and broken as they sat cuffed to the table, the way his chest shuddered weakly with every breath, broke Akechi’s heart and twisted his stomach in a way he had long since thought he was incapable.

How unfortunate, he thinks, to have been wrong.

He lifted his gun, detesting the way it shook and rattled as it stared down the broken thief. Despising how Akira warped and melted with the tears welling in his eyes, how his heart felt as if it were bloodied and raw in his chest.

Akira would never know. He'd never know just how he died. His existence would simply just disappear, ending in a room deep underground, all alone. There would be no friends, no family to comfort him as his life was stolen away by leather-clad hands. No one to whisper kind reassurances in his ear and soothe his pain. His screams of anguish at the hands of those who would hurt him, who would leave those ugly marks on his skin as his world swam through a haze of drugged uncertainty, would be the last thing he would have truly experienced. Akira’s last memories would be that of immense suffering all alone.

Tears spilled to the floor as Akechi choked back a sob. This was the same man who had shown him kindness he’d never known—the soft smiles, gentle kisses tasting of bitter coffee and warm adoration, the tender steel gazes hidden behind thick frames.

And this, _this_ , was how Akira was to die. At the hands of someone who spoke sweet nothings of love knowing one day betrayal lay in wait behind those tender words. It was almost too cruel.

 

 

Almost.

 

 

* * *

This was what he had wanted, wasn’t it? Even as the detectives beat the ever-loving shit out of him, as they stuck him full of more needles and drugs than any one teenager should be, he’d not lost that wild spark in his eye. The rebellion that dug boots further into his flesh, that incurred the high and mighty fury of the police, fuelled his spirit to endure.  _Survive_.

That was hours ago. As it turns out, even the strongest will can be broken with enough boots, drugs, and time.

But this was what Akira had wanted, wasn’t it? He’d recklessly chased fire, and here he was, getting burned. The searing as he drew closer to the blaze did little to dissuade him—hell, he'd flung himself headfirst _into_ the kitchen the second he felt the heat. The thrill, the soaring rush of dancing with the flames that licked at his skin drove him into self-destructive recklessness, and here he paid the price.

This was what he wanted.

Wasn't it?

He barely registered the click, nearly missed meeting teary, red brown eyes with grey.

Akechi was shaking. Akechi was _crying_. If Akira didn't have lead in his veins and blood rattling his skull, he'd like to think he would have wiped those tears away with his bloodied, broken hands. As he slumped forward, head slamming and splattering red on the cold steel table, he'd like to think he would have been able to make Akechi smile just one more time with a silly pun.

 _‘Caught red handed, detective,’_ perhaps. Maybe that would be enough for Akechi to snort out a stunned chuckle, for a disbelieving smile to flit across his face. For his tears to dry and his gun to drop. For him to be happy, if just for a moment. If just once more.

Red handed, indeed, as the blood—his blood—stained his hands a hot crimson where they lay cuffed and unmoving beside his empty head.

No longer could he see Akechi, but the broken wailing, the clattering of metal on the ground, still broke his silent heart. Rasping sobs, trying desperately to fill stubborn lungs with air echoed around his tomb.

 

_I always knew I'd die young_

_It was just destiny_

_But please, lie to me_

_And say you’ll know I'm gone_

**Author's Note:**

> There was a couple of buildup chapters for this, but I do actually intend on still using those in sun so have this short, short, short almost end.
> 
> yea this was. how it was gonna end. and then I decided hey woah no not doing that today.


End file.
